


let's get lost for real

by brokethings



Category: Eyewitness (US TV)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M, basically just an alternate ending to the whole series, with trains and motels and new york city apartments
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-13
Updated: 2017-09-20
Packaged: 2018-12-27 07:55:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12076827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brokethings/pseuds/brokethings
Summary: “If he knows we’re alive, he’s not ever gonna stop until he finds us.”“Okay, so we won’t stop either.”Canon divergence beginning at episode ten— if running from Ryan didn’t have Philip and Lukas stopping at the motel, if instead they just kept going and going.





	1. Chapter 1

Over the past weeks, Lukas has come to realize that there are some things both he and Philip know that he wishes they’d never had to learn. This consisted of small realizations, first, like Lukas’ flinched reactions to movement or Philip’s effortless ability to procure a fake ID in less than a day. But each only lead the way to more glaringly questionable habits, those in Lukas and his capacity to never really say anything important about himself, or Philip and his constant offhand lies. And then there was the knowing that hung over them, heavy and unavoidable; that night in the cabin, the killer they’d seen, the scene that never should have been theirs to watch. Between them, they’re comfortable with too much they shouldn’t be.

So it’s nothing surprising, really, when Philip knows how to convince a stranger to drive them away from the hospital. Lukas takes it in stride when he clambers into the narrow backseat, slotted alongside three bulky bags of farm feed that squeeze his limbs in to his frame. He could wonder over Philip’s apparent experience, but it wouldn’t help either of them to press on it at that moment, and so he stays silent.

He doesn’t ask where they’re going at first, either. There’s too much static still caught in his head, left over from the painkiller he’d been given some hour before, tangling up his grasp on the situation. Philip had been in a frenzy getting him out the doors of the hospital, clearly trying to be as gentle as he could manage while still pulling him hurriedly down the empty hall, shuffling him into the first car that paused. They all peeled away in silence, the driver pointedly not asking anything he likely wanted to--- after venturing a ‘ _so where you boys headed_ ’ that went unanswered, he apparently read their fearful reticence for what it was. The miles passed emptily until the man warned them his destination was approaching, and Lukas found himself being guided back out into the light, Philip’s cautious grasp bracing him protectively.

That had been some minutes ago, followed by Philip's urging that they had to keep moving along the blank road, and Lukas is now doing his best to not allow any panic to work its way up his throat. Philip walks immediately beside him though feels far away, the prescription fog in Lukas’ body fading back to focus, his thoughts sharpening while the loss also bites out a dulled pain in his shoulder. They’ve ventured without speaking for too long, he realizes, a tenseness between them that’s unusual, and so Lukas glances to him with a question.

“Where are we going? California?”

Philip smiles in response, only barely, half a second of a reaction that’s about as good as Lukas could have hoped for. He remembers Philip’s admission, weeks ago on the roof---  _I can be cool for you too_. If he looks at Philip for too long now he can see his nerves, well-covered but betrayed occasionally in the way he glances around after them, or bites at the skin around his nail, or the uneasy way he kept touching Lukas’ knee in the drive as if he feared he wasn’t really there with him. His assurance is carefully constructed and if Lukas was anyone else he thinks he might not recognize it as stilted at all, but he likes to believe he’s come to understand Philip better. Him, and the small expressions of nervousness across his body. The image of any calmness they both carry are lies that neither of them challenge, and Lukas takes some reassurance from Philip’s composure. He always does.

“Yeah, right.” Philip shrugs off Lukas’ half-joke and they fall back into silence, following each other aimlessly down the road. The painkiller that’d clogged up Lukas’ mind just dissolves further as they walk, and the deprivation of it is growing unavoidable, an ache splitting up along his shoulder. He comes to run his palm against the spot, pressing lightly, an anchor to the situation though not a welcome one.

Philip looks him over from beside him, Lukas dropping away his hand when he speaks up to shrug off the concern he knows is coming. “You should probably take it easy.” 

“I'll be okay.” He’s eager not to dwell. He knows Philip’s worry isn’t going to do either of them any good, and he’s probably had enough of it over the last few days that he doesn’t hope to add to it now. Lukas has always been happy to avoid other’s consideration, as it would usually come along with questions he never felt like answering. It’s a kind of attention he isn’t practiced in handling, and this moment isn’t the time to start learning. So he presses on to something else, still not an amiable topic but one he’s been overthinking well over the past hour, unsavory but preferable. “You even sure it was him, Philip?”

Philip begins nodding and replying in confirmation before the words are even fully out of Lukas’ mouth. It’s clear the thought is already at the forefront of his mind, ready and waiting to be spoken. “Yeah. Yeah, I got a really good look at him. It was definitely him.”

“If he knows we're alive---” His answer isn’t surprising, Lukas knew it was coming, but it still hits him with a sobering wholeness that has him pausing in his tracks. Philip’s pace stops with his, turning to face him while obvious tension tightens again and again in his jaw. Lukas wants to reach for him, maybe put the flat of his hand along the side of his neck, smooth his thumb over that strain and feel his pulse point as a reminder that at that second they’re both still alive--- but he can’t even bring himself to reach for his hand, foreign to all of it. They’re well out of Tivoli, as even the hospital had been a good twenty minutes from familiarity, and it’s not enough. The expanse around them provides none of the secure anonymity that the city had given them, and Lukas just continues with the space between them unbroken. “---He's not ever gonna stop until he finds us.”

This apparently gives Philip some hesitation, as his reaction isn’t immediate as it had been. He looks around them, sights settling for a moment on the glowing motel sign just behind them, quietly considering. Lukas thinks maybe he’s going to suggest a room, a plan he would gladly go along with as the pain hasn’t alleviated from his chest. Having somewhere to sit and take a breath sounds good to him, getting out of the open and the vulnerability that comes with that exposure. But Philip falters, so Lukas just waits.

Philip clears his throat, suddenly decisive, looking back to Lukas with his expression set, quickly rebuilding the facade of confidence that had wavered. His thumbs hook into the straps of the backpack and tug a few times, rolling his lips into a line in the way that he does. “Okay, so we won’t stop either.”

This is not an anticipated response, and Lukas is not nearly quick enough on his feet for a quippy reaction of his own. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, let’s get out of here. I don’t want to just--- be here, waiting around for that guy to show up again.”

Lukas isn’t sure what Philip hopes he’ll to say to this. It’s an offer he’s thought about more often than he’d care to admit, even before the threat of discovery had begun closing hot in on them. He’d think about it when he climbed in through Philip’s open window, purposefully lowering the shade behind him as he did, just in case there was somehow anyone watching from the edge of the trees. He'd think about it when Philip would ride on the back of his bike, how easy it would be to go down the next exit and just take them both out of that place. Think about it when Philip would lace his fingers into Lukas’ when they were on their own, wishing it was a small comfort he could bring with him always. Running away with Philip had been an easy fantasy to turn to and he often relied on the thought, at times when he was at his worst. But it was rarely considered as any sort of possible reality, not when everything was busy falling to pieces around them, so having it abruptly waiting in front of him here takes him aback.

“Maybe not going to California, not just yet.” Philip can likely see the confusion so he presses on, calling back to Lukas’ earlier teasing. Lukas is surprised to find himself disappointed at this, no matter how unrealistic a plan it is to flee all the way to the other coast, though at least Philip doesn’t say it with much finality. “But if we head out towards Route Nine, we can probably find someone on their way to Poughkeepsie.”

He’s clearly attempting to present the idea assuredly, and Lukas isn’t yet giving him much of an answer to play off of. Philip reaches out for an instant, just barely brushing the hem of Lukas’ shirt as if he’s considering tugging at it to draw him closer. The touch drops away just as quickly as it’d come up, though, and Philip shrugs instead. “If you want.”

“You want to go to Poughkeepsie?”

“Just to get to the train. We could go back to the city, maybe hide out there for a while. A lot harder to be found there than around here.”

“Wait, you’re serious? Just--- running off?”

He wants to say yes. The whole situation doesn’t feel real or grounded, still partially caught in the numb of his painkiller. If he acted on a knee-jerk reaction he’d have a litany of agreements, leaning in to kiss Philip between each  _yes_  because this feels like something he’s waited on longer than makes sense. He outgrew Tivoli the instant he was left alone with Bo, he thinks, and he’s more than ready to leave the whole place dead in his wake. Lukas is someone with a lot of plans, though, and not always the right or smartest followthrough, so he doesn’t jump on the suggestion the way he’d want to. Just licks at his lower lip in consideration and looks back down the road they’ve walked.

Philip rushes to backpedal, pulling again at the bag straps as he does. “Yeah, I think I am. Is that okay? We don’t have to, we could also find somewhere around here, maybe call Helen---”

“Okay.” 

“What?”

Lukas nods, more sure with each second after that first response of his, like the  _okay_ had broken through the last of his uncertainties. He smiles then, briefly but genuinely, and Philip’s tension eases with it. “Okay, let’s go. To Poughkeepsie. To the city.”

Logically, he knows that it might not be a solution. Philip had said he thought he saw the guy carrying a badge, which could make their evasion all the more fruitless--- he’d found them before, somehow, when they were supposed to be safe with the woman from the FBI and it’d ended with Lukas shot clean from the air. He knows that their running could just mean more chasing. He’s not about to stop and wait to be found, though, especially not with Philip looking at him suddenly eager and anxious like that. Any kind of security feels out of reach, now, but he wants to try for it anyway. Wants Philip to get as far away from all of it as he possibly can. Wants to be with him when he goes.

“I want to.” Lukas agrees again, watching the reaction it brings out. The fidgeting ends in Philip's hands, none of this enough to be a relief just yet but a good start along the way.

Philip glances out towards the street unrolling in front of them, then once back to the vacancy sign of the motel, a last moment of thought. The pause is shaken off, though, and he nudges Lukas with his elbow before starting back up towards the expanse ahead.

“Come on.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. i know that philip didn't have a bag with him in the show, but he does here because he had it with him in the hospital and then they immediately forgot it. where did it go. don't leave a backpack anywhere philip
> 
> 2\. this chapter is a little short, i know! i'm hoping later ones will be a bit more substantial but i mostly just wanted to set the scene.
> 
> 3\. no editing we die like men (aka sorry for inevitable mistakes)
> 
> 4\. ummmm this is my first time with anything multi-chapter so please bear with me while i figure this out? i have everything planned but won't say it'll be a specific length bc i don't know for absolutely certain how it'll pan out
> 
> 5\. i hope!! you like it!
> 
> 6\. my tumblr is [here](http://brokethings.tumblr.com/) if u ever wanna talk about these two


	2. Chapter 2

Finding the highway proves less difficult than Philip would have suspected, the hazy growl of the traffic in the distance audible even from where they’d been dropped off. The ride in the truck had brought them southwest a few miles, drawing away from the pocket of civilization where the hospital sat and leaving them set towards the open farmland that frames the river. It doesn’t take long for them to follow the noise and correct themselves to the main road. Philip attempts to flag down vehicles that pass until he’s met with a favorable response, a small station wagon pulling over to the shoulder of the concrete.

The driver is an older woman, regarding them both with sympathy as they crawl into the backseat. She pulls the car back out into the pace of the highway, and quickly begins to drift through some rambling story about the daughter she's heading out to visit in Fishkill, though Philip pays her little mind. He’s glad for the break in the quiet, at least, her directionless and one-sided conversation providing white noise to occupy the otherwise tense silence. He can’t help but overthink, mapping back over every step they’ve taken so far and each one that’s laid out before them, seeking holes in their shaky plan while his thumbnail picks at a thread along his leg.

They’ve been careful so far. As they’d walked towards the highway they’d pulled the batteries from both their phones, zipping the pieces into separate pockets of the backpack to avoid any temptation of use. The bag now rests at Philip's feet and he pulls it fast up to his lap, absentmindedly humming out some false amusement as the driver laughs at her own story. The pack had been brought to Lukas’ hospital room at some point by Bo, going relatively untouched until they’d abruptly fled, and Philip’s hands idle at its zipper while he looks to Lukas. If he has any concerns about the contents being handled it certainly isn’t apparent, as Philip doesn’t even need to venture the question before Lukas is shrugging one-shouldered, indifferent.

Philip offers a few one-word replies to the woman’s prattling, most of his focus turned towards now shuffling through the sparse belongings they hold to their name. He goes in with expectations lowered, yet the stuff still proves to be less promising than hoped; there’s a few changes of clothes, a toothbrush, some book which Bo probably thought would keep Lukas busy which had clearly never been opened, and a couple bottles of pills a nurse had handed off. A wallet is the most encouraging of the collection, though Philip knows better than to allow it much acknowledgement in front of a stranger, even one as seemingly harmless as this mothering type with too many anecdotes to tell. He makes a deliberate note of each object, cataloguing and folding them into his image of how the next few days should shape out.

The remainder of the drive passes unremarkably, Philip drumming out his nerves with his knuckles against his thigh. Their company appears to tire herself out on her own narration after a while, and the whole car falls into stillness. Lukas’ knee has come to press lightly against Philip’s, bridging the cramped space between them in the backseat, and he can’t remember if he’d sought out the touch himself. He’s glad for it suddenly, still frustratingly disconnected with two layers of jeans between them, but grounding enough that he can take solace from it. He presses into the contact for a second, nudging at Lukas with no real intention other than seeking further reassurance. He can see a trace of dark circles beneath Lukas’ eyes when he turns to look at him, and the sight of it has Philip concerned all over again. Lukas still appears too much like he did in the hospital, tired and pained and disconnected.

Part of Philip worries that this idea is disastrous. Everything has happened so abruptly that he hasn’t yet been given the chance to sort it all out. He’s had to jump immediately from the fear that Lukas wouldn’t wake up, to the fear that everything was revealed to Bo, then to the fear of being chased down. And now those separate uncertainties are closing in on themselves in a way Philip doesn’t know how to handle. But he prides himself on his adaptability, and he just leans to watch the water of the river following them to their right. He gives himself a deep breath, and again pushes his knee solidly against Lukas’.

When the three of them pull into the station some half an hour later, Philip makes quick work of helping Lukas out into the lot and waving the woman off on her way. She’d been friendlier than he would have expected but he’s learned to never let someone linger, lest they start pressing questions or offering awkward help. There are few people loitering around the tracks, and even less populating the station inside, which Philip takes as a good thing. They avoid the benches altogether and instead sit themselves against a wall, Lukas letting his legs stretch out long before them. It’s fairly obvious he’s grown uncomfortable, and Philip asks him three times if he’s okay, each repetition met dismissively. They’d made sure to pull him a painkiller from the bag just before going inside, as taking anything in full view of the other admittedly sketchy patrons would surely only invite trouble. It takes a few minutes of sitting quiet before his tension seems to ease, leaning his shoulder along Philip’s and letting out a hard sigh. 

“Hey,” Lukas starts, considering, his brow furrowing and his hand coming to play with the collar of his own shirt. “We’re going to need money, right? I’ve got a card, if there’s an ATM I could get us cash.”

“Yeah, I’ve got some change, and a twenty in my shoe.” He taps his heel against the tile for emphasis, Lukas looking to him in confusion while Philip just rolls his eyes to dismiss. The bill has stayed tucked safely beneath his insole for a while, folded and worn into a soft-edged rectangle after years of walking above it. It remains as a comfort more than much else, largely forgotten, but had always been the smallest safety net to the uncertainty that came with living with Anne. “I started keeping it there a long time ago, just in case of an emergency. You never know. Card’s a good idea, but you’ll just have to wait until right before we go. So if the guy tries to trace that here, we’ll already be gone.”

“You really think he could track it?” Lukas’ serious expression just deepens at the given thought, focus darting between each door to the street. Philip knows the feeling; there’s little chance the killer will somehow suddenly burst in and catch them there, though he can’t help but fear over the possibility regardless. Their plan is only coming together as it happens, uncertain while they go.

“Don’t know. I don’t want to take the chance, though.”

His nervousness must have sounded out in his tone as Lukas leans into him further, chasing contact with their shoulders together and legs coming to rest against each other on the floor. He wonders if Lukas has deemed them far enough from reality for affection to be safe, so he ventures; just flattens his palm over the top of Lukas’ thigh, deliberate but avoidable enough to be easily undone. Lukas responds immediately, covering his hand with his own, never letting his touch settle as he moves his fingers ardently along Philip’s.

Philip so badly wants to just relax into the moment. Lukas’ hand playing with his is more of a respite than he would have anticipated, and the growing distance between them and the disaster of Tivoli is a relief as well, but just the mention of the man with the gun is sobering. When he used to imagine running off with Lukas it’d always been cleaner than this, with the two of them on his bike and only having to worry over inconsequential things like diner food and motel showers.

“Never really liked Poughkeepsie.” The statement has Philip refocusing, noticing that Lukas has been watching while the unease was likely apparent in Philip’s face. He’s surprised Lukas is the one to instigate any conversation, as he’s never one to say much of anything, but he just lets himself appreciate the distraction.

“Yeah, it’s not great.” He looks around them, to the man solidly asleep on a bench across the room, the woman behind the snack bar with her headphones in and attention unfocused, the beaten-down taxi van that waits just outside with no passenger seeking it. The space itself is elegant enough with brick walls and arched windows, but there’s something undeniably listless about the occupants of it. “This was the best place to go, though. The station right by the hospital is one of the first places Helen and everyone are gonna look, once they figure out that we left. A good train’s not going to be here until after dark, and if we were just hanging around that place they’d have picked us right up.”

“You know this stuff really well.”

“What, you’ve never run away before?”

This seems to make Lukas falter, sounding disinterested when he speaks up, and Philip is uncertain how genuine that indifference is. “Not really. Where would I have gone?”

Philip shrugs. “Wasn’t really about going anywhere. Sometimes there was just stuff my mom and I wanted to get away from, you know? Didn’t actually know that it was weird, at first.” His memories of trips with his mom are almost all good ones, he realizes. He finds he’s cherry-picked the best moments of each, forgetting the initial frenzy she’d be in while leading him down to a subway stop and instead choosing to remember how relieved she’d always look as they left the city. The worst times with his mom almost always came up from the company she kept, so taking them both away from all of it was often a welcome escape. “Learned a lot of tricks, though. She had some smart stuff figured out.”

“First time going alone, though?”

“Yeah, but I’m not alone, am I?”

The restless movement of Lukas’ touch stills with this, pulling Philip’s hand into his and tightening his grasp. He goes to release after an instant of holding secure, but Philip stills him, threading his fingers between Lukas’ and keeping them there. Nothing about where they are is ideal but having Lukas along with him makes his breathing easier, because there’s been too much uncertainty about him over the past few days--- so him sitting solidly beside Philip, real and alive, is assuring.

Philip clears his throat, skimming his thumb over Lukas’. Lukas has his head tipped back against the brick, eyes looking up towards the ceiling, and Philip watches him while he continues. “I used to come around here with her when I was younger, you know. With my mom.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm. An ex of hers had a place up here, and he’d let us stay there every now and then when she would get tired of the city. Like, I think sometimes she just felt overwhelmed. She loves the music and the noise and everything most of the time, but it was also nice to be here and like, just sit. The guy was a dick but his house wasn’t terrible. Had a view of the river, if you sat up on the roof.”

“She’d sit with you?”

“Yeah. It was nice.” This is the sort of recollection he’d decided is favorable enough too keep. Looking out over the Hudson in the fall, a little too cold but not harsh enough to ruin his mood, his mom next to him and letting him take photos on her phone. Their times on the roof were always interrupted by a boyfriend who was too loud, too demanding, and Philip hates him for it. He has no room for compassion with the people Anne’s kept close. But when it comes to her, he’s forgiven a lot and he’ll keep doing it. Whatever he associates with her, he wants it to be good.

“I’ve only been a few times.” Lukas replies. “My dad’s got work around here. He tried to let me stay home the first time he had to go after mom died, but some neighbor got mad that he’d left me there alone. So he made me go with him for a while after that, until I got a little older. It was always really boring. There’s nothing to do. I’d mostly just wait for him at the hotel and watch some cheesy Discovery Channel shit.”

It’s always unexpected when Lukas offers much of anything about himself without Philip’s direct fishing, and so he mulls over this information for a moment, trivial as it is. “That’s weird.”

“Don’t judge my TV choices.”

“No, just---” He actually laughs at that, a split second of normality as the conversation between them has grown easy. “---I wonder if we were ever here at the same time. You and me.”

Philip likes to believe that maybe they were. Lukas hasn’t told him much about his childhood but he can start to piece things together regardless; he sees that Bo is not a loving man, and a trip alone with him may not be something Lukas considers with much fondness. Perhaps he and Philip can eventually write over that, though. They could remember a place like this as their pit stop out of Tivoli, instead of one where a six-year-old Lukas was left alone. Maybe sometime he could bring him back here in the fall, when everything is safe and right, and take him to see the river.

Lukas lets his sights fall from the lights to the floor, reaching to grasp the back of his neck with his free hand. He's got a far-away sort of look to him now, the circles under his eyes seeming deeper in the glare of the fluorescence, and Philip notices he’s gone quieter. The familiarity of it doesn’t sit well with him, unwittingly reminiscent of a pill-addled Anne and the way she’d seem half there. He just squeezes at Lukas’ hand, though, drawing his attention up to meet his eyeline.

“Hey. You still there?”

He sighs, nods. “Yeah, yeah, sorry. I just feel weird. Tired.”

Philip smiles to Lukas for a second, because through his concern there’s still some stupidly affectionate part of him that’s probably out of place with the seriousness of their circumstance. One that softens just having Lukas there, sitting beside him, holding on to him. “It’s okay. You can try and get some sleep, if you want. We’ve still got a couple hours, I’ll let you know when we have to go.”

Lukas just nods once more and leans further into Philip, settling back against the wall. “If anyone tries to rob us, wake me up so I can fight them off.”

“Oh, naturally.” He wishes the moment could be more calming than it is, wishes he could savor the fact that Lukas is letting Philip hang onto him in public in a way he never would in Tivoli. And he does, briefly, he lets it be okay when he feels Lukas list heavier against him. But mostly he just is attentive in his stare out the window, watching as people file out of an arrived train, trying not to appear too wary as they all pass through the station, out the doors, and into the waiting street.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yikes i do not know how to write from philip’s perspective? but damn does he love his mom
> 
> i know things are starting out a little slow but i swear i've got some good stuff planned, you just have to be patient!
> 
> also this fic isn’t going to immediately ignore the fact that lukas literally just got shot? i mean it's not going to be a huge thing bc that would get boring and also this is very fictional, but i did some research and i’m going to do my best to have it make sense--- bc the show kind of just gave him a little square band-aid and called it good. please just give him some damn antibiotics and painkillers or stuff is gonna go really bad really fast? let that boy rest
> 
> p.s. my writing tumblr is [here](http://brokethings.tumblr.com/) if ur interested!


	3. Chapter 3

“Hey.”

Lukas wakes disoriented, coming up through the surface of the haze he’d been caught in. It takes a moment for anything to be placed; the tile that has warmed under his side, the monotone echo of a voice over the PA system, the hand which smooths through the hair at the nape of his neck. First, the movement is automatically leaned into, tired and fond. He’d never much realized how starved he had been for contact until it became something he allows himself, and his half-asleep filter does little to keep him from seeking it. But the touch turns deliberate as purchase is found at his roots, tugging gently and dragging him the rest of the way awake.

“Hey, c’mon, we have to go.”

Philip’s voice is unmistakable, now, and Lukas pulls himself to sitting at the sound of it. As he moves, he notes the sharp edge of pain that had previously burrowed into his chest has softened, instinctually running a cautious hand over the bandage beneath his shirt. He’d come to splay out along the ground while he’d slept, twisting to lie with his head against Philip’s lap, embarrassed suddenly at the unconsciously-sought contact. The floor beneath him has brought up a stiffness in his side which he rolls his shoulder through, stretching his arms in front of him in a way he aims to be casual.

“Did you just pull my hair?” Lukas asks, blinking fog out of his vision and looking over to Philip, accusatory.

Philip shrugs, smoothing his jeans over his knees. “I couldn’t think of a nice way to wake you up.”

Lukas laughs at this, wiping a knuckle over his eye. Maybe it’s that sentiment that has him leaning over to and kiss Philip once, though he’s fairly sure he does it just because he can. Everybody around is a stranger, people he’ll only know for the last few minutes of waiting around the station, and he doesn’t care what they have to think. There’s already a whole laundry list of things he has to agonize over then, and this shouldn’t have to be one of them. It’s a brief bit of affection, his lips pressed to Philip’s, and Lukas immediately thinks it to be too spur of the moment until his pulling away is stopped. Philip catches his jaw and kisses him back, more securely this time, holding him still and letting him breathe into it for a calm few seconds. His hand slides to rest along Lukas’ shoulder and it stays there heavy for a beat, even after they pull back, a pause before Lukas gives an amused smile and is lightly shoved away.

He wants to enjoy the aftermath of that instant for as long as he can, watching Philip collect their belongings, as experience has taught him he’ll only wind up overthinking the kiss later. Any closeness out in the open is like a quick-release of relief that goes sour with time, and it’s a pattern he hates but hasn’t figure out how to avoid yet. He remembers the first time in the city, how the ease of that kiss only grew to be grieved over later, once he was back in Tivoli in his own bed and Philip was far away in his. He’d been glad that he’d recognized the chance and had any courage to take it, but feared that it was an opportunity he wouldn’t see again. Lukas wonders if he’ll ever stop worrying that each public kiss will be the last one he dares to have.

The indulgence of Lukas’ staring is cut short when Philip shifts to stand, and his sights turn to look out the window ahead of them. It’s gone solidly dark, only squares of tracks lit yellow by a few lights overhead while the rest of the space is swallowed. The station itself is even emptier than it had been when he’d fallen asleep, nearly barren of any other company. Neon red letters flash to change on a screen above their heads, rolling their train up to list as the next arrival. The night through the doors doesn’t aid in their shared air of unease, making everything seem as though it crowds in uncomfortably close, and holding the possibility of someone waiting unseen. He thinks back to that dog that had been killed just outside the Caldwell’s, in the blackness, alone---

“Wait, shit, the ticket counter’s closed.” Again is his train of thought interrupted when Lukas spots the gate that’s lowered and locked over the office window. Philip tows Lukas to get up after him, looking over to where he gestures but apparently unbothered by this realization.

“No, it’s okay. We’re not getting tickets.” Philip responds softly, watching the questioning expression he brings out in Lukas. “It’s alright, I know how to do this. Having to buy them now would be really expensive. Besides, people get more lax when it’s late and when they’re picking up from smaller stations, and we’re set on both.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. It’s gonna be fine, I swear.”

This feels like a promise Philip can have no way of knowing the certainty of, but its unpredictability isn’t enough to have Lukas protesting. It surprises him, sometimes, how much he’s come to trust Philip, and he’s already had enough confidence in him to follow him this far. So instead of wasting time with further pressing, he just listens as a plan is laid out. The way Philip acts decisively makes him seem as if he knows everything there is to know, however true that may be. The ideas he relays aren’t in any way infallible, but nothing they’ve done to this point has been either, and so Lukas nods cautiously in agreement. 

The next few minutes pass in a kind of purposeful silence, the both of them on edge. Lukas refuses to let Philip completely out of his sights, keeping him in his peripherals as he peels off to the ATM while Philip goes to interrupt the uninterested woman behind the snack bar. He picks as high an amount as he thinks is safe without raising automated red flags, and is shoving bills into his wallet as Philip comes up beside him, holding on to two colorless sandwiches his own money had managed to cover. They store the lot in the backpack before Philip slings it over his shoulder, tightening the straps securely as if their lifeline is in those few spare shirts the bag holds. It isn’t clear which of them Philip is trying to ground when he comes to run his hand along Lukas’ forearm, though Lukas doesn’t care much the reason he keeps chasing contact as long as he continues to do it. 

They make their way out the doors and down the stairs to the platform below, blessedly unpopulated with only two others waiting on their same train. Philip had reminded Lukas what to do in a hushed voice as they’d gathered themselves upstairs, but now they’ve both fallen quiet again, attentive. Twin shafts of light curve around the corner as the train becomes visible down the tracks, bursting Lukas’ pulse to a nervous rate. Philip had reassured him that even if they’re caught, the worst they would likely face would be some withering looks and money shelled out on the spot. He isn’t certain where Philip has earned his affinity for lying, but he’s probably capable enough to talk their way through what could appear to merely be a misunderstanding. Still, Lukas’ own rule breaking had previously been limited to a small-town scope, riding his bike where he wasn’t supposed to or drinking watery beer with his friends after hours in a school lot. This feels like a step up from expected teenage misdemeanors.

The train settles to a stop and they both walk purposefully into the closest unattended door, immediately shuffling through the empty car and shoving into the nearest bathroom to wait. A light overhead clicks to life as the lock slides closed behind them, and Lukas can’t help but get some nervous amusement from the absurdity of the situation. They won’t have to hover there long, Philip had explained, just giving enough time for a ticket-checker to pass through the corridor and leave them in the clear, but it is a decidedly strange few moments. Beside him, Philip stands rigidly still with his ear towards the door to listen for nearing steps, tapping his fingers soundlessly against his hip. Lukas crowds in next to him closer than is likely necessary, trying to similarly focus on the movement outside.

Something tastes bitter in his mouth when he feels the train lurch to life, and it’s a fear he places immediately. Rationally, it’s recognized that the man with the gun is the real threat, breathing down his neck and making Lukas consider each stranger that passes--- but when they begin to draw away from the station, the only thing his thoughts can hone in on is the expected reaction from his father. The surreality of the past few hours is dragged to the ground with this, as he suddenly realizes the magnitude of what they’re doing. If his dad had been drunkenly angry at Lukas’ absence for a single night in the city, he doesn’t even want to consider what he’d say to all of this. There’s something deep and broken between the two of them, which Lukas is realizing can’t entirely be his own fault, yet he carries the blame for it regardless. The train picks up speed, and as more and more distance is put between them, he knows he is just shattering everything worse. He swallows hard; this dread is ill-timed, and he can wait on thinking over the explosion his father surely has ready for him. If he’s lucky, maybe he won’t ever have to face it at all.

It only takes a few minutes for Philip to let out a relieved breath when they hear the footsteps and idle conversations of the collector pass. Another minute is given as hesitant padding, ensuring the man is truly and thoroughly out of the way before they emerge. If any of the sparse other riders are bothered by the pair of them appearing, none of them show it, all either asleep or distracted or just unconcerned. Philip snags two overhead tickets from empty seats when they walk by, marked to tell that their owners got off in Hudson, and he flips them around to hide the written destination as they find spots of their own. At a glance, the tickets can appear to be theirs, and if a suspicious employee feels the need to examine them, Philip would tell some story about accidentally purchasing a trip to the wrong station and just pay the difference. The arrangement is not a foolproof one, Lukas knows, though it’s more secure than anything he would have come up with on his own.

With the expired tickets overhead and the collector past them, tension is noticeably eased as they sink into seats far back along the wall. The dark outside has only grown without the lights of the town to cut through it, settling deep against the river chasing beside them. A few poorly-illuminated stations pass them by, little more than a sign and a platform and a streetlight to make each apparent, though they’re all more or less abandoned as they shoot past. The few passengers ahead of them don’t seem interested in acknowledging each other at all, most watching the dim scenery go by or drawing their curtains closed to sleep. Philip hands Lukas a plastic-wrapped sandwich and they eat silently for a few minutes, Poughkeepsie trailing small behind them as they tear towards the city.

“I can’t believe this.” Lukas speaks hushed, the rest of the car mutedly drowned in the hum of the engine and a faint beat of music from someone’s headphones. “Us, I mean. Here. Like, this is weird as shit.”

In whatever paltry future he’d managed to picture for himself, he never would have included the possibility of really running away. The realness of the situation continues to grow obvious with each mile they get from Tivoli, feeling less and less like he’s just watching everything happen around him, disconnected. He takes another bite, the sandwich flavorless and dry enough to stick to the roof of his mouth. “And I get not wanting to lose like, a quarter of all our money for tickets, but we could have at least gotten better food.”

“I can admit, it’s not really the dinner I’d imagined.” Philip breathes a laugh; his response starts as offhand, but he soon rushes to get through the end of it. “Wasn’t only about the cost, though. We would have needed to tell them our names, which just gives another thing someone could follow.”

His quick change of subject has Lukas realize this is the first real time they’ve ever actually sat and eaten together. Even during their night in the city, the best they’d managed was a few sodas and bags of chips from a street vendor, eaten as they’d walked to find a place to stay. His concept of a real date might be skewed, though, as most of his evenings with Rose were spent with some sort of safeguard between them. They rarely spent much time alone, with him instead asking her to film him ride, or them ending up surrounded by their other friends, or him listening to her on the phone with the distance of the town between them. While none of those plans could title him as the most outstanding boyfriend, it was always easier if the two of them could bring some distraction along with them. He didn’t have the right attention to give, and she didn’t seem to much want it anyway, and so they just settled for long rides and group outings.

It wasn’t ideal, but it was what Lukas had settled into. Before, he’d decided that was just what could be expected from himself, half-hearted attempts at romance without much life behind any of them. But then Philip had turned up, derailing however Lukas had falsely figured himself out--- Philip has a way of doing that, he’s learned, making Lukas want the things he’d resigned himself to never actually wanting. And so now he’s oddly disappointed that this is where they’ve end up for a first time, at least somewhat alone together but with uncomfortable seats and mediocre food. He could have done better for Philip, he thinks. If things hadn’t become the mess they did.

He isn’t sure how to say any of this, or if it should even be said, so he just joins in on Philip’s topic switch. “Could’ve used fake names. I’ve still got my ID.”

“Okay, if they catch us, you can be Rick.”

“Well, I know you’re a fan of his.”

Lukas looks over to Philip, amused as he works at his food. He wants to just exist in this moment, watching the curl of hair over Philip’s ear and the way his jaw moves, but he can’t help but keep thinking back to the place they’re both leaving. They’re surviving, now, and he thinks maybe that’s something they’ve both had to become good at; him, carefully constructing safety for himself in Tivoli, and Philip, imperturbable through whatever has been thrown his way. Lukas has learned a little about everything that lead Philip to Helen and Gabe’s, but there must always be more which Philip has decided to leave unspoken. He always wants to press but hasn’t yet figured out how to ask without an expectation of reciprocation, and figures that if there are secrets of his own he works to keep, he can expect Philip to do the same.

He is certain, though, that he’s fortunate Philip is there with him at all. Lukas has only ever figured out how to create protection for himself in one place, with people he knows, and anything past the borders of the town has quickly become foreign to him. The security he’d formed in Tivoli was certainly volatile but he’d found how to balance the habits he’d fallen into well--- those dates with Rose, and his preferred silence, and the attention his noisier friends commanded. It was an image he’d built for himself that never sat quite right but was at least secure. One that he’d assumed was meant for permanence, but in that moment of regarding it in the past tense, he realizes he’s just left nearly every safety measure behind him in Tivoli. He thinks of the city, of Philip, of the absence of his father, glancing out to the landscape running by as he does. The prospect of existing without the buffers he’d made is daunting, but he finds he doesn’t dread it the way he thought he would. He’d thrown it all away because Philip had asked, and he knows that if he got the chance, he’d do it again.

“When we get to our stop,” Philip starts, drawing Lukas’ attention back. “If we can find a phone, I’ve got a guy I think we can call. Helped me out a couple times before.”

“It’ll be like, after eleven.” Lukas raises a brow. “Would he be pissed if you called him that late?” 

Philip rolls his eyes, stretching his legs out as much as he can in the narrow space between them and the back of the next seat. “Not everyone has to get up early to do some farm errands, country boy. You’ve got a lot to learn.”

Lukas elbows his side and Philip laughs in response, too loud for the space and causing a man to turn around to give them an annoyed look. He’s waved off, Philip taking another bite to muffle himself while Lukas complains about the nickname. They both find more to quietly debate over, leaning into each other as the train carries them through the dark and to the city.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a heads up this that fic won’t be getting too fast-paced until maybe chapter five or six, so if the two of them just hanging out and figuring shit out together isn’t your thing, try and stick around until then for some Legit Action. i’m v new to fics in general so i don’t know if faster progress is expected, but i’m having fun just writing and developing them both so i’m hoping maybe you’re down with that too.
> 
> my tumblr is [this way](http://brokethings.tumblr.com/) hello


End file.
